The light goes out
for an instant.
The world run over,
dark, empty,
like a wounded bird
in the vast night,
without knowing where it came from
the bullet .
The world does not sleep
calm down, some keep watch
the dream of others,
while I dream of you,
the sun rejoices
in your eyes, the green
is reborn and the rivers sing.
As you sleep,
the sun shines on me
path,
the dry transmutes into green,
from the roots of my hands,
and the saddened rivers
They don't sing.
In other places
...no one sleeps,
the bullets go through
the bodies, the mermaids
the eyes turn red, the rivers
They are tears and in the
fields turn green
corpses.
The night does not sleep
in children, the earth
it cracks,
and hope is buried.
Although a butterfly
landed on the hand of a
child, making him smile
of faith, of his painful wound.